


Mondays

by TheSadisticMunchkin



Category: NU'EST
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternate Universe - The Breakfast Club, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, POV Alternating, Substance Abuse, Swearing, That's the only reason it's rated T it's because of all the swearing these damn teenagers do, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSadisticMunchkin/pseuds/TheSadisticMunchkin
Summary: Under the bleachers, away from the rest of the school, is where the Breakfast Club meets every Monday.It smells of weed and Victoria’s Secret perfume. It tastes like cheap burgers and expensive whiskey. It’s a hideaway, an escape, an alternate reality where they can hold each other without fear of getting caught. It’s a safe space from the harsh high school hierarchy that they deal with on a daily basis. Jonghyun likes to call it a trash dump.Aron likes to call it home.(NU'EST Breakfast Club AU - After Detention)
Relationships: Choi Minki | Ren/Kang Dongho | Baekho, Hwang Minhyun/Kim Jonghyun | JR
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Mondays

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a little passion piece I started today because I'm stuck at home for the foreseeable future. The Breakfast Club is one of my all-time favorite movies and it would have been a CRIME if I never wrote a NU'EST fic based off of it at some point. You don't necessarily have to watch the whole movie to get this. I recommend watching the group therapy scene though as that's where I got the most inspiration. 
> 
> Rest assured, I'm still doing my other fics but I indulged this small burst of inspiration and I hope you all indulge in it as well.
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

_ “What’s going to happen to us on Monday?” _

* * *

There’s something oddly charming about the atmosphere beneath the bleachers. It’s quiet and serene, a hidden oasis from the hustle and bustle of the school hallways. The air is far from crisp compared to the dewy football fields. It smells of cigarette smoke, two dollar cheeseburgers, and sex. It isn’t exactly an unwelcome scent. It’s just not what Hwang Minhyun, the prince of Pledis High, is used to.

He feels ridiculous sitting on top of Jonghyun’s leather jacket while the boy rolls him a blunt. He imagines several pairs of eyes on him, from the usual crowd that Jonghyun usually hangs out with. The burnouts. The freaks. The  _ criminals.  _ Even if they’re not actually there.

_ I’m not supposed to be here.  _

“What’s on your mind, princess?” Jonghyun’s dangerously raspy voice shakes him out of his thoughts. Minhyun is greeted with a neatly rolled blunt and a disgustingly handsome smirk and it took all that was within Minhyun not to growl. Jonghyun brings out this hidden,  _ primal  _ feeling within him. If he were to please his English teacher, he would say that he awakens an inner wolf. The mere thought of it makes him shiver. 

“Nothing,” He answers eventually, taking the blunt from Jonghyun and putting it in his mouth. Jonghyun laughs. MInhyun glares at him. “What?”

“Nothin’, sweetheart.” 

It’s surely not  _ nothing  _ but Minhyun lets it go. “Asshole.”

“Thanks,” Jonghyun blows him an exaggerated kiss before giving him a light. MInhyun, as if on instinct, breathes it all in. Like he’s back at the library, trying weed for the very first time. Though this time, he doesn’t cough. He’s not sure if he’s proud of it but it’s an achievement nonetheless. 

They sit there for a while, blowing smoke on each other’s faces, and laughing at everything and nothing at the same time. At some point, MInhyun’s head finds a comfortable position on Jonghyun’s lap. Callous fingers run through his hair as a response. Minhyun closes his eyes and gets lost in the sensation. He gets lost in his thoughts again, most of them about the recluse with a sharp tongue and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

* * *

_ “I consider you guys my friends… I’m not wrong, am I?”  _

_ An uncertain silence falls among the unlikely group of friends. It’s almost deafening because they can practically hear each other’s thoughts. The unsaid and heartbreaking realization of whether or not Monday will be different. Whether or not the brain can be friends with an athlete. Whether the prince can hold hands with the criminal without fear of judgement. _

_ But they all knew it. _

_ Minhyun lives that reality like it's Gospel truth.  _

_ He can be attracted to the asshole hottie all he wants but he will  _ never _be able to hold his hand in the hallways. He can laugh with Minki and smoke a blunt with Aron just for today but come Monday, he'll be ignoring them in class. No matter how much he wants to kiss Jonghyun in the middle of the cafeteria and flip off the administration and the student body, it's just not what's expected of him. It's not what he should do._

_And that's exactly what he tells them. Even if it hurts._

_“You want the truth?”_

* * *

“Hope you guys weren’t doing anything inappropriate on school property.”

“Suck my  _ dick _ , motherfucker.”

“Gladly, babe.” 

Jonghyun throws a half eaten burger at Dongho who, as fucking expected, catches it perfectly in both hands. He flips him off and he gets a loving middle finger in return. Minhyun’s eyes are still closed but he still greets Dongho with a soft smile, the kind that Jonghyun rarely gets to see when he passes by the homecoming king in the halls. Although, that smile probably was caused by all the weed. But Jonghyun chooses to ignore that factor.

It’s around 4:30 in the afternoon now, meaning Dongho probably only has a total of ten minutes before he has to run off to training. This simply means that he can’t smoke today. Tragic. He knows Dongho probably came here for a blunt but Jonghyun knows his coach ain’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt if the smell of weed was just a little bit too strong. Jonghyun may be a dick but he thinks about these things. It makes his head hurt trying to keep track of all that shit, though.

“Sungsnooze was being a fuckwad again today,” Dongho makes himself comfortable on Jonghyun’s lap too, his head across from MInhyun’s as he lay on the opposite side. 

“When is he not?” He tries to push Dongho off but (naturally, the fucking golden boy) Dongho was much stronger than him and didn’t even budge. 

“You seeing him again this Saturday right?”

“Every week for eight weeks, hotshot. Might as well live with the guy.” 

“Got your adoption papers ready?”

Jonghyun snorts, ultimately deciding to poke at Dongho repeatedly until he tells him to fuck off. “Dunno if having him as my new dad over my real dad is a good exchange option.”

Dongho falls quiet. Minhyun opens his eyes to look at him. Jonghyun tries to avoid both of their gazes but sometimes their combined gravitational pull is virtually impossible for Jonghyun to ignore. Fuckin popular kids. It should be pretty obvious without him even saying it that his home life is probably one of the worst out of all of them. Daddy Hwang wouldn’t dare lay a finger on his precious little prince. Mr. Kang could probably beat the shit out of Dongho if he wanted but chooses not to.

Jonghyun was never that lucky.

He sort of hates it. How much they look at him as if he was a wounded puppy. Sometimes he wants to ask if they actually like him or pity him. If they really did, wouldn’t they be parading him around the hallways as their new charity case?  _ Watch the school rebel turn into prom king.  _ That’s fucking  _ rich,  _ even just thinking about it. Jonghyun would rather endure thousands of cigarette burns than be crowned prom king. Those crowns were plastic anyway. Just like the rest of the dumbass kids in this school.

And what were his two little lap dogs going to do? File a case to the police? That would entail them having to reveal that they were all friends for them to even know all these sickly little details about Kim Jonghyun’s abusive home life.

* * *

_ “With all of us or just Jonghyun?” _

_ The hesitance in Minhyun’s eyes was the answer even before he really said that he would ignore the rest of them. He couldn’t even properly look at Jonghyun, let alone Aron or Minki. Watching him try to reason with Dongho, about how if he saw Aron walk up to him in the halls on Monday, he would make fun of him to the rest of his athlete friends behind his back. _

_ And it pisses Jonghyun off how  _ easily  _ that all came running out of his stupidly glossed lips.  _

_ That’s why he explodes. _

_ He’s so fucking tired of seeing emotions repressed and stamped on. He’s so tired of watching MInhyun in the hallways, yearning but knowing damn well he can never actually have him. He’s exhausted listening to Minhyun uphold the societal standards that nobody has any fucking obligation to follow. When he’s seen the real him, the real  _ them,  _ and it’s what causes him to say it. _

_ “You are a fucking bitch!” _

* * *

Aron is late. It’s uncharacteristic of him but he immediately gets it when he sees that he’s dragging a resistant Minki behind him.

“C’mon, Minki. Do I have to put a leash on you like a dog… or my cousin Oliver--”

“If he wanted a leash, he would have asked for one.” Dongho meets them halfway and tries to pry an uncooperative Minki away from him. “Or he would have stolen one months ago.”

Minki hisses but Dongho is used to it at this point. Aron isn’t and it makes him laugh just a little bit. After he triumphantly releases Aron from Minki’s grasp, he rubs his thumbs in circles on MInki’s flushed palms. It’s instinctual, familiar, and a disgustingly intimate gesture that Aron gets immediately. He rolls his eyes and moves to sit next to Jonghyun; he kisses him on the cheek obnoxiously, knowing that kind of shit pisses him off. 

In their own little bubble, Minki refuses to look up at him and Dongho just smiles softly, patiently, and continues to rub circles on his palms. Eventually, Minki’s tense shoulders relax and the flush on his palms moves up to color the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears a pretty little pink. Dongho notices that he’s wearing the headband that MInhyun gave him. It’s nice that he gets to see Minki’s face without all the hair covering his eyes.

“You wanna sit?”

“No.”

“You want a bite of my burger?”

“No.”

“You wanna just stand here for a bit?”

Silence follows that last question. Dongho waits a few seconds before Minki responds, softer and more unsure.

“I wanna show you something.”

Dongho tilts his head curiously, his smile never leaving his face. “Yeah? What is it?”

Minki hesitantly lets go of one of Dongho’s hands and reaches deep into his bag. He eventually pulls out the state championship patch that he ripped off of Dongho’s jacket last time. Dongho looks at it in confusion before he realizes that Minki vandalized it past recognition. The figure in the middle was doing an obscene pose with smudged lipstick and piercings. The words no longer read  _ Wrestling State Champion.  _ Instead, it just says  **_W a m p._ **

Dongho found it oddly adorable.

“Cute,” Dongho comments and there is not a single trace of malice in his tone, something Minki was still expecting despite all this time they’ve tolerated each other. Dongho shakes his head and kisses Minki’s knuckles as a gentle reminder that he does  _ more  _ than just tolerate Minki’s…  _ unorthodox  _ methods of showing affection. It results in a fully red face and pouty lips.

* * *

_ “Would you do that to me?” _

_ Watching Minki cry was a phenomena that could rival the big bang. It was like watching droplets of dying stars cascade down his milky way cheeks. Minki isn’t aware of it but everyone in that circle saw him as a supernova. They saw him as a galaxy containing all the things unknown. A discovery that they can’t quite name, but have noted as extraordinary.  _

_ “I don’t have any friends.” _

_ That statement hurt more than it normally would have.  _

_ It wouldn’t have if the rest of them  _ did  _ have friends. Real friends. Friends to talk to about their shitty home lives and their fucked up teachers. Friends that look at you like you hung the stars in the sky but keep your feet on the ground. It’s a foreign concept to all of them and it’s in Minki confessing he doesn’t have that grounds them all in the reality that they’ve molded themselves into.  _

_ The painful reality of adolescence.  _

_ Among this small group are teenagers that have to live up to a standard not just by society but by what they perceive themselves to be. Some see themselves as what others see them. Some hide behind the facade of rebellion and oddities. Others think that a letter grade defines who they are. Others just want to stop living altogether in order to end that cycle of never being good enough because of this forced ideal. _

_ “I just want to tell each of you that I wouldn’t do that,” Aron says exactly what’s on their minds even if it seems like empty promises. “I wouldn’t and I will not.” Then he looks at Dongho in the eye in particular. Dongho can’t find it in himself to look away.  _

_ “Because I think that’s real shitty.” _

* * *

Soon, Dongho has to head on over to training, Minhyun has to meet his driver in the parking lot, and Aron has to pick up his kid sisters from ballet. That meant their blissful time beneath the bleachers was coming to a close. Minki feels the most overwhelming surge of loneliness every time one of them points out that it’s almost five o’clock. He doesn’t want it. He wants time to stand still. 

But no matter how tightly he holds on to Dongho’s hand, he knows he has to let it go and wait for another week.

He doesn’t own a phone or a home computer. He’s banned from going to the post office to send letters. Mondays from 3 to 5 are the only times where he can actually breathe. It’s where he can talk to Minhyun about what it’s like to have a boyfriend. He’s never had one and beneath the bleachers is when he can officially call Dongho his boyfriend. He still finds it completely unfair but he doesn’t think he has the strength to walk up to Dongho any other time during the week just to kiss him on the cheek.

He prides himself in his oddness. He revels in the confusion he leaves in his wake with his piercing stares and out-of-context quips. He’s the weird kid and he’s fucking  _ proud  _ of it. Being weird means people won’t look at you. Being weird means you can get away with almost anything because people think you’re just crazy. 

But being weird also means he’s lonely.

Beneath his kleptomaniac tendencies and compulsive fibs, lies a boy who longs for connection. He still has a heart that beats faster the same way a normal person’s would when their crush passes by. When  _ Dongho  _ passes by and only just looks at him for a split second before putting on that goofy ( _ fake fake fake) _ smile for the rest of his wrestling friends. Yeah, it actually fucking  _ hurts.  _

But there really isn’t anything he can do about it.

All he  _ can  _ do is relish these small moments where he can kiss Dongho as much as he wanted. All he can do is hold Dongho’s hand as tight as he could, despite his teasing quips that he’s cutting the circulation off. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t  _ care  _ if Dongho will still be able to feel the warmth of his hand on his when he’s in training. He doesn’t care if he steals another one of Dongho’s collector pins from his backpack.

What he  _ can  _ take, he will keep.

* * *

_ “When you grow up, your heart dies.” _

_ “Who cares?” _

_ “I care.” _

_ In that final bit of silence, Minki knows everyone else does too. _

* * *

Under the bleachers, away from the rest of the school, is where the Breakfast Club meets every Monday.

It smells of weed and Victoria’s Secret perfume. It tastes like cheap burgers and expensive whiskey. It’s a hideaway, an escape, an alternate reality where they can hold each other without fear of getting caught. It’s a safe space from the harsh high school hierarchy that they deal with on a daily basis. Jonghyun likes to call it a trash dump.

Aron likes to call it home.

It’s under these bleachers where he can see soft moments between Dongho and Minki, where in fifth period Chemistry class they sit on opposite ends of the room. It’s under these bleachers where he can see Minhyun’s true smile and hear his genuine laughter. It’s under these bleachers where he sees Jonghyun’s walls break down. Where he sees him, without shame, stare at Minhyun with pure, unadulterated  _ affection.  _

Beneath the bleachers is where he sees Jonghyun open his heart up to the rest of them. It’s where he saw him cry for the very first time. It’s beneath these bleachers where he sees Minhyun let loose and he doesn’t even mind it when he takes Jonghyun to the corner just to make out with him. It’s because they’ve claimed this space as  _ sacred  _ and  _ theirs.  _

It’s where he sees Minki speak more than three sentences at a time. It’s where he sees Dongho shed all that manly bravado in favor of cuddling. From 3 to 5PM, they’re a group of boys who desperately want to live the way that they want to. They’re infinite and definite. They’re a multitude of somebodies that they can never be beyond the haze of homemade weed smoke. 

Yet, the fact that they can only ever be their authentic selves for about two hours every Monday is what makes Aron angry.

But he  _ gets  _ it. The world, especially their shitty high school, isn’t ready for all of this. It isn’t ready for freaks hanging out with the jocks. It isn’t ready for rebels dating teen royalty. They could talk about changing the system, destroying it bit by bit, burning every last metaphorical rule book that dared keep them apart the rest of the week all they want. But the truth is painful and  _ real.  _

That the world isn’t ready for the Breakfast Club. 

But they have these two hours. They have 3PM to 5PM every Monday to let  _ go.  _ To talk about how to take over the universe with their singular united brain cell. To hold hands and pretend to gaze up at a sky with a multitude of stars. To get high, get tipsy, and laugh like tomorrow isn’t a school day. 

For now, it’s enough.

* * *

**_Who We Think We Are_ **

**_Dear Mr. Han,_ **

**_We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you’re crazy for making us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms and in the most convenient definitions._ **

**_But what we found out is that each one of us is:_ **

**_A Brain_ **

**_And an Athlete_ **

**_And a Basket Case_ **

**_A Prince_ **

**_And a Criminal._ **

**_Does that answer your question?_ **

**_Sincerely Yours,_ **

**_The Breakfast Club_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some comments and kudos if you like <3 I treasure this fic a lot uwu
> 
> Follow me on twt @minmanager for more fun (???) content !!


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